


i'll be gone too long from you

by grimmauld



Series: nanowrimo 2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Professional Quidditch, Secret Relationship, engaged marcus flint/oliver wood, except not really, it's honestly just a cute quick piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmauld/pseuds/grimmauld
Summary: Marcus had gotten it into his head that they would play better if they brought back an element of rivalry, like they had during their times at Hogwarts. Oliver thought it was a stupid idea, but he was nothing if not encouraging of his fiance’s idiotic behaviours. A voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like Pucey berated him for it.
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Series: nanowrimo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995103
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	i'll be gone too long from you

**Author's Note:**

> the writer's block has been REAL this month so i offer you this and nothing else
> 
> title from canyon moon by harry styles xx

“Wood,” Marcus growled, knocking their shoulders together as he passed.

Oliver rolled his eyes, a cheeky smirk playing at his lips, “Flint.”

Marcus huffed, pulling open his locker with more force than strictly necessary and shoving his clothes into it. The long silver chain around his neck clinked against the metal of the locker door as the heavy ring swung forward. Oliver grinned softly to himself, twisting his own ring before pulling it off his finger, slipping it onto the silver chain he also wore.

Marcus had gotten it into his head that they would play better if they brought back an element of rivalry, like they had during their times at Hogwarts. Oliver thought it was a stupid idea, but he was nothing if not encouraging of his fiance’s idiotic behaviours. A voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like Pucey berated him for it.

They had been sleeping apart for a week. Forgive him for being a little wound up.

“Don’t fall off your broom, Flint, wouldn’t want you losing what’s left of your brain cells just for your team to also lose against us.”

Marcus’ lip curled in the way it always did when he was trying to hide a smile. Oliver had hated it in sixth year, before he knew how to read it properly. It was one of his favourite Marcus faces now.

Oliver pulled his Quidditch robes on, turning to face Marcus. He was keeper for Puddlemere, finally. He had been traded from the Chudley Cannons at the beginning of the season and that day was his first proper match as the new team seeker. Oliver watched as Marcus pulled his black and white Montrose robes on. He had been on Montrose as a chaser for a season already, as he constantly reminded Oliver when they were fake-arguing. They never got as angry off the pitch as they did during their years at Hogwarts, but the sexual tension was far, far heavier.

As soon as his robes were over his head Oliver was striding across the locker room, pushing Marcus firmly against the wall of lockers and pressing their bodies together, leaning in close to Marcus’ space, his knee finding a place between his thighs.

“Good luck out there, you’re gonna need it,” he whispered into Marcus’ ear, slotting their hips together. He pressed a kiss to his neck, just below his ear, sucking on the skin and soothing it over with his tongue, hot and fast, until he had left a bruise the shape of his open mouth. A silent claiming. It bloomed across Marcus’ neck in an angry red. Oliver pulled back, feeling extremely satisfied with himself. Marcus looked at him with fire in his eyes, pupils blown out with desire.

He leaned in to press a firm, open-mouthed kiss to Oliver’s lips, but Oliver stepped away and turned to leave the room before he could reach, throwing a wink over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

If the tosser was going to make them sleep apart for a week, Oliver was sure as shit going to make him horny beyond belief in retribution.

“What took you so long, Ollie?” His teammate, Elle, called from where the rest of the team was standing in the hall, “We’re almost on.”

Her eyes flicked behind him as the door opened and Marcus walked out. Oliver looked over his shoulder and saw the deep scowl that had overwritten Marcus’ features. He also managed to catch a glimpse of the reddened skin mottling the skin around the sizeable hickey he had sucked into Marcus’ neck.

“Were you and Flint fighting?” Samson, the team captain asked, looking at Oliver with concern, mistaking their flushed appearances and dishevelled robes, “this isn’t school anymore. We’re professionals, Oliver, I’m not going to allow anyone on my team to bother themselves with useless, schoolyard idiocy.” 

Oliver grinned cheekily, “Nah, Flint and I are alright.”

Okay. So Oliver hadn’t told his team that he and Marcus were engaged. It’s not like he’s  _ ashamed  _ of Marcus, or anything. He’s just never gotten around to it. He liked his team, of course, but it wasn’t really their business anyway. They were friends, but they weren’t the second family like the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams Marcus and Oliver had captained at Hogwarts were. Besides, they had never asked, so he had never said anything. It was whatever.

It’d be a hell of a reveal, anyway.

His teammates had no time to question him further though, as they were already being called to the middle of the grounds.

The sun was bright in Oliver’s eyes as he walked from the dark tunnel onto the pitch. Cheers from the audience were a white noise in his ears as he breathed in, in, out through the mouth, pushing himself into the Quidditch head space.

As he mounted his broom, all he could smell was the fresh cut scent of grass. As the whistle blew all he could see was the goals he had to defend. It was easy to tune the rest of the world out, and just focus on keeping the quaffle from going through any of the hoops. 

But even with the world a comfortable TV static, Marcus was a spot of coherency. Oliver was keenly aware of his whereabouts throughout the whole of the game.

-

The game was progressing as normal, a fast-paced game with bludgers flying around like mad. Every player was a blur to Oliver, he could barely tell his own teammates apart, but that was  _ normal.  _ It wasn’t normal for a bludger to hit his  _ fucking fiance  _ so hard he tumbled from his broom, whistling through the air as he fell twenty feet. He hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Oliver was moving before he could even think about it, a scream ripping from his throat as he flew over to Marcus’ still body. Two mediwizards in stark white robes had run onto the field and crouched next to Marcus, casting healing spells.

Oliver payed them no mind, jumping off of his broom to kneel next him.

“Sir, you need to stand back,” one of the mediwizards said, voice kind but firm.

“Please, he’s my fiance, I need to be with him,” Oliver begged softly, sounding closer to tears than he expected to.

Quidditch was a dangerous sport, he and Marcus were both well aware of this fact and it was far from the first time either of them had gotten hurt playing. Still, Oliver was  _ terrified. _

“Okay. We’re taking him to St. Mungos,” he said. 

The mediwizard Oliver hadn’t spoken to conjured a stretcher, the two of them lifting Marcus onto it. They levitated the stretcher and began to carry him off field, Oliver following closely behind.

Samson stopped Oliver as they passed through the tunnel, looking at him questioningly.

Oliver shook his head, “Later.”

Samson nodded kindly, registering Oliver’s distress. His eyes widened as they caught the ring Oliver had been subconsciously playing with, twirling it around on the chain.

“Go. We’ll deal with the match.”

Oliver smiled gratefully and rushed to catch up to the mediwizards.

-

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Oliver said as Marcus’ eyes blinked slowly open. 

Their hands were intertwined, resting on top of the cool white sheets of the St. Mungo’s hospital bed.

“Hi,” Marcus croaked, “How long was I out?”

“Couple hours. Never do that again, you fucking wanker.”

Marcus grinned, sleepily, “Awh, scared for me, Wood?”

Oliver rolled his eyes, but squeezed Marcus’ hand just a bit tighter.

-

(Their relationship announcement made the front cover of the Quidditch Times. Angelina gave them a framed copy of it for Christmas.)

**Author's Note:**

> @gaylupin on tumblr lmk what you thought!!


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